Текст: Giardini Di Mirò. Punk ... Not Diet!. The Swimming Season.

Everything is static
Since that
So what i?ve become

the dark rooms of your father
just can?t overwhelm

at dawn we might be careful
for our love it might rise
at the end of the snow

at dawn we might be quiet
for our bones they might rest
at the end of the snow

the dark room we left further
through the woods.

You ?ve been scared
as tons of christians feared the lions
In the coliseum and cried
For solitude

And Everything was made
To waste the best of what they had in store

everything is static
i?m after everything
just staring at the basement of
this fall

you?ve been tryin
To waste the best of what i had in store